Give Me A Review Please

It was a typical Sunday morning. I wake up first, let the dog out (and in), pick up the NY Times from the front porch, make the coffee, and switch on CBS Sunday Morning.

A front page article caught my eye, having to do with the book reviews on Amazon.

Tongues wag when we see effusive and numerous reviews of a book of someone we know. A blogger with a huge following garners the swoon reviews. Authors I know have asked friends for favorable reviews. Friends of authors want to leave a good review for a colleague.  Every body's mother will leave a nice review. The haters that know you crawl out to leave a crappy review.

Some Amazon reviewers make a lifetime out of doing reviews such as the woman featured in the article who has done 28,000 reviews (and counting).

Harriet Klausner, now has over 28,000 reviews on Amazon. “You ever read a Harlequin romance?” she said. “You can finish it in one hour.”

Apparently Amazon is now pulling questionable reviews. Says who? Any hater and self appointed  cop can lodge a protest in the form of the inappropriate on any social media (including this one). I cannot imagine that these protests are seriously looked into. I think a robot response just informs you to remove a post, or in the case of Amazon, the perceived offense just disappears.

Alberto and I have had a book (Gotta Tango) on Amazon for years, and I can tell you we never asked anyone to review it. But is has been reviewed, and it is interesting to see what "strangers" say. Next year (Fall 2013) my first book on interiors will be published by Glitterati. Will I ask you for a review (a good one of course!), and will Amazon allow my humble number of blog readers let a nice review stand? And most important, do these reviews mean anything really? I tend to buy a book because I want it, without letting the reviews sway me. In the one great word coined by Decorno: Discuss.

And on another silly note. Back to Sundays with granny. I'm back in bed with the Times, my coffee, Alberto asleep next to me, Cholo and Kitty Kitty Bang Bang nearby. The silk turquoise drapes are pulled to one side to let the morning light illuminate the newspaper. I sip and look around the room, and let my thought bubbles talk to me. I thank God for Alberto alive next to me. I ask Him to help my sister. I thank Him for letting me live another day. I make a general prayer for the sad state of the world.  I take stock of the room, still loving it. My eyes wander and BAM! St. Anthony finally heard me.

I take stock of the room, still loving it

There is a weird closet that was installed before our time in this house. It sits over the doorway of our bedroom. It has been empty for most of the years we have been here.

Mitchell hand painted the pattern on the walls (he always helps me with my crazy ideas) - Do you see the weird closet above the door?

I tear off the covers, jump out of bed, and get the ladder. There it all is!!!!! The Tiffany boxes; the retro tree in it's original box; the tree stand; the pillows tied with ribbon.

Duh

Duh. Now I remember. The usual storage space for Christmas decorations was getting a little tight, so I moved these things to the only empty storage we have. You can see how I missed even seeing this lofty camouflaged  closet. My friend Mitchell hand painted the pattern on the walls for me, and so deftly concealed the quirks of the room.

Rushing off to church to leave something in the poor box as a thank you to St. Anthony.

And I thank all of you for your concern and not yet reserving a room for me in the old decorators home.

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